


Human Nature

by characterstudy, Historynerd0401



Series: It's The Falling In Love [1]
Category: Diana Ross - Fandom, Mariah Carey - Fandom, Michael Jackson - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-12 20:44:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10499127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/characterstudy/pseuds/characterstudy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Historynerd0401/pseuds/Historynerd0401
Summary: Worldwide Megastar Michael Jackson has a serendipitous encounter with blossoming talent, Mariah Carey.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Horizontal lines signify a passage of time in the same perspective. Date breaks signify shifting to another perspective. Enjoy! :)

**May 15th, 1990**

Michael was headed to Sony Headquarters in New York to meet with Tommy Mottola. He was to give an update on the progress of his next album, which would be the follow up to Bad. He stretched down to turn on the radio just as the DJs started a current events segment.

Even though he wasn’t driving, he focused on the road. Car rides had a way of easing his nerves.

“-And this is a new artist we're playing today named Mariah Carey and this is her first single, ‘Vision of Love’."

Michael rolled his eyes. _Another one hit wonder?_  

There was something about schmaltzy title of the song that let him know he was in for four minutes of manufactured drivel. He felt like some of the newer acts didn’t appreciate the craft the way he did. Music was his entire world. From the day he was born up until now, the only consistency was the art. Still curiosity got the best of him--he decided to listen to the song and give the new artist a try.

Two minutes into the track and the song was unlike anything he’d heard before. He appreciated the melody and the instrumentation, but it was the build up to the bridge that truly sold him.

" _Woooow_." He whispered to himself.

Distracted by the whimsicality of 'Vision of Love', Michael hardly realized he already arrived to his destination.

He soon pulled into the parking lot behind Sony Headquarters New York and stepped out of the car with his trusty friend and head of security, Bill Bray, trailing him. He strutted toward the building sporting a red button-down, black Ray Ban Wayfarers, black skinny jeans, and his signature black penny loafers. His dark black sprawling curls conformed to his face, bringing out the undertones of his complexion.

On his way into the building, Michael found himself humming along to 'Vision of Love'--his mind equally as preoccupied as his mouth.

 ** _Thud_**.

“Woah!” Michael shouted, after a brief collision with a young woman in the middle of the hallway.

“I’m sorry about that, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was walking.”

The woman stood to her feet, her eyes glued to the ground. “It’s o- Michael Jackson?”

Michael grinned. “That’s me.”

 

**May 15th, 1990**

The young woman looked up in awe--her curls obscuring her startled gaze.

"I am really sorry Mr. Jackson, I should've been paying more attention to where I was-"

"No worries, it's okay.” Michael replied. “What's your name?"

She stammered over her words, giddy and embarrassed. “M-Mariah."

He tilted his head to the side. “Mariah Carey?”

She nodded, eagerly. "How did you know?"

"I heard you on the radio on the way here. Your voice is incredible."

Her face burned red-hot. "Thank you, that means alot coming from you."

" _Really_?"

"Of course! You're the King of Pop!” She exclaimed, she was sure her wide smile sent stalker vibes.

He smiled at her starstruck reaction. "Well, I have to go before I'm late for my meeting, but uh...I hope I can see you again before I leave New York."

Mariah bit back her smile. "It might be possible. I won't be leaving here for another two hours."

"Well my meeting should be over way before then...maybe we can finish this conversation?"

She rejoiced internally. "That's fine with me."

“Alright. I’ll see you then, Ms. Carey.” He quickly turned to head toward the elevator--the bravado of his strut almost as powerful as the blinder he called a smile.

 _Oh my god..._ She couldn’t believe she’d just talked to Michael Jackson without fainting. _I should give myself a pat on the back_.

* * *

Three magazines, a short studio session, and two cups of waiting room hot chocolate later, Michael returned to the lobby. She didn't notice him until a shadow fell over her, blocking her reading light.

She looked up from the Ebony magazine, feigning disinterest. "You're back..."

She looked down, her curls falling into her face. Michael gently pushed them out of the way.

"You didn’t think I’d leave you hanging, did you?"

_Yup…_

She gave a nervous chuckle. “Well, I didn’t know- I’m not sure what to expect, I guess? Not many people are nice around here.”

“Yeah, well, that’s this industry, unfortunately.”

She nodded, her eyes downcast. “I guess I just don’t wanna have someone lie to me--give me false hopes, ya know?”

"I won't.” He replied. “I mean-I consider myself a pretty nice guy. I’d like to just be your friend."

 

**May 15th, 1990**

Mariah looked surprised. "My friend?"

Michael nodded. "Why not?"

“I-I mean-” She took a deep breath, letting out a nervous giggle. “Well, I'd like that.”

He smiled at her again. “You don't have to be nervous.”

“I'm sorry, I'm a little shy.” She said, pushing her hair out of her face. “So, um, what brings you to New York?”

“Just a couple of meetings.” He shrugged. “I had to talk to some of the execs about my album, then I'm supposed to be meeting Teddy Riley this week.”

“Cool- I like him.” She noted, flashing her dingy whites. “Yeah...so what are you doing here? Are you working on an album or?”

“Well I live in New York, Tommy just wanted to talk to me about the single. And I also had some time in the studio. We're actually mastering my album right now.” She explained.

“So it's coming out soon then?”

“Next month.” She informed. “It’s crazy though because I'm writing some new songs for another album right now.”

He jumped back in surprise. “What?”

She nodded eagerly. "Yeah- they want me to really be productive."

"That’s crazy though. You haven’t even released the first one yet. You don’t want to end up like some washed up ‘80s star who thinks their Italian and only has one hit.”

Mariah chuckled heartily. “You are a mess! Now I wanna know who you’re talking about…”

"If you wanna give me your number, I can call you and tell you later."

Mariah raised an eyebrow. “I see you went to the LL Cool J school of finessing the ladies."

Michael stroked his bottom lip with the tip of his index finger--his expression mischievous.

She pulled a piece of paper out of her purse and scribbled a few numbers on it before handing it to him.

"I guess we're officially friends now."

"So as a friend, I'll take you home." Michael offered.

Mariah shook her head. "No, it's fine. I can take the subway back."

"No, it's getting late. We can stop and grab some food on the way."

"No, Michael. _Really_ , it's fine." Mariah said.

Michael frowned. "I'm not letting you take the subway home. I'm a gentleman."

She pretended to contemplate it for a moment. “Well, I mean, since you insist...” There was only so much of the chase she could take.

“Sure.” He replied.

* * *

Michael led her to his car--a black Mercedes. He opened the passenger door for her before running over to the driver's side. Soon, his everyman, Bill, pulled out of the parking lot.

The radio cut on as soon as the ignition started, and on it--Vision of Love.

"That's me...on the radio." Her eyes were open wide.

Michael grinned. “How does it feel?”

"It feels amazing.” She leaned back in the seat, dreamily.

“I didn't think this could happen.”

“Well, I don't think it'll be the last time.” He said. Her eyes flicked over to him.

“What do you mean?”

“I think you've got a lot of potential.” Michael started. “Couple more strong singles, some good promo and a tour, you're good to go.”

“Tour?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, almost nonchalantly.

"The thought of performing is so scary to me. Like, I was a back-up singer, but performing my own music isn't the same."

Michael turned to her with an understanding expression. “It's not that bad. Once you get on stage you'll be so into it you won't even think about anything else.”

“Easy for you to say.” She teased. “I can't imagine all those people staring at me.”

He threw up his hand. “You don't even see their faces. The stage lights are so bright they look like little dots.”

She laughed at him. “Little dots?”

“I’m serious.”

The two spent the remainder of the car ride talking about different techniques that Mariah could use to help her relax on stage. Soon, they found themselves at a Wendy's drive through window.

Mariah started digging in her purse.

Michael shook his head. "It's on me."

"Michael, I can't. You're already driving me home." She said as she pulled a five out of her purse.

He smiled. "Don't worry about it.”

The two tried to make themselves as inconspicuous as possible while Bill ordered their food and, luckily for them, they managed to get out of the drive through without any mishaps.

Michael reached down in the bag and popped a fry in his mouth. "So where do you live?"

"Lennox."

* * *

Soon, the car slowed outside of a run-down old apartment building. Michael was skeptical about leaving her there--he'd silently hoped they made a wrong turn and In no time up at someone else’s place.

"You live here?"

Mariah nodded. "It's all I could afford. Right now I'm sleeping on an air mattress and these are my first pair of shoes that doesn't have holes in them."

"Gee...I remember when it was the nine of us crowded into a two bedroom house. Which floor do you live on?"

"Second floor. Right there." She said, pointing to a the only window with the lights out.

Michael took a deep breath before stepping out of the car and walking around to help her out.

He escorted her over to her building. “Alright, so I’ll call you when I get to my condo, okay?”

She smiled. “Sure.”

He returned it. “Alright then, I’ll talk to you later.”

He leaned down to hug her--her body nearly disappearing into his.

“Goodnight.” He said, before trailing back over to his car.

Michael got in the car and waited for her to go inside before instructing Bill to pull off. Weirdly enough, at the time, couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was something about her that made him feel light and airy--a feeling he’d been begging for since this time last year.


	2. Chapter 2

**May 15th, 1990**

Mariah hurried up to her apartment before her landlord could see her. She wanted to go just a day without being told that she could be staying in the building for free.

When she made it into the tiny studio, she flipped on the lights and flounced down on the couch she had found in the back alley with her Wendy’s bag.

 _Shit- My water_.

She pushed up from the couch and walked over to the kitchenette for a glass of water.

Overhead, rats scurried around, probably in search of their next room at the upstairs neighbors’ apartment.

After taking a few sips of lukewarm water, Mariah grabbed her salad out of the Wendy’s bag, walked over to the air mattress and plopped down on it. She ate her salad in silence, still hearing the rats running back and forth over head.

 _What can you do that hasn't already been done?_ Mariah thought.

She sighed. _Michael thought I was good. He would know, look at his success. And Brenda should be more successful, but she's not, now is she?_

Outside of the window, sirens wailed loudly. A few gunshots rang and Mariah prayed it wasn't coming from the men outside of her building.

She took an anxious bite of her salad.

_I gotta get the hell out of here..._

* * *

When she finished her salad, Mariah picked up the telephone to call her employer, and good friend, Brenda K. Starr.

"Hello?"

"Hey Brenda, it's Mariah."

Brenda mock gasped. "Uh-oh I've got the hottest new artist on my line, how you doing? Better be ecstatic."

Mariah laughed. "I'm flying right now, girl."

"Good. Hopefully you'll be able to get out of that rank apartment soon."

"Hell, I just hope I can afford food on a regular basis by then." Mariah said, glancing at her refrigerator.

"You out of food again? You know I can take you to get groceries."

“That’s okay, Brenda. I’m not a charity case.” Mariah replied in a joyous sing-song tone.

She could hear Brenda roll her eyes and quickly changed the subject.

"So how was your day?"

"I didn't do much of anything. I went to the spa and got pampered, that's what I did." Brenda replied.

"I know that's right. You deserve it."

“Yeah, I do. All these hours I’m putting in. But what about you? How what did you do?”

Mariah grinned. "I met Michael Jackson on my way out and he drove me home."

Brenda squealed on the other line. "You met thee Michael Jackson and got him to drive you home? Girl, why didn't you start there? I want all the details."

Mariah giggled. "So I was walking out and I bumped into him-"

"Typical Mariah."

Mariah rolled her eyes. "Like I was saying...I didn't know it was him at first so I'm just apologizing and then I look up, he's trying to help me up. I'm like 'You're Michael Jackson' so I started apologizing even more. So he helps me up, but he's all cool about it. Then he asked for my name and I tell him. He goes 'You're Mariah Carey?' and I'm like 'How does he know who I am?' He said he heard my song on the way there. I wanted to faint right then and there, but he had to go to his meeting, so he left. Then, like thirty minutes later he comes back out and we keep talking, then he offers to take me home. At first I said no-"

"Girl what? Michael effing Jackson asks you if you want a ride and you turn it down?. I would've been like 'Let's go, which car is yours? The most expensive one right?'"

Mariah rolled her eyes. “Anyway, moral of the story: he has my number and told me he wants to be my ‘friend’.”

Brenda squealed again. "So do you like him?"

"Like him? I barely know him, our conversation wasn't deep or anything. I know nothing about him that the average fan doesn't know." Mariah explained.

"But he has your number, right?"

Mariah started again. "Yes, but-"

“‘Yes but’ what, girl? Michael Jackson talked to you and asked for your number. He is clearly interested in you!”

Mariah shielded her face in embarrassment.

"And you know what? I'll let you in on something else before I go, I got an interview tomorrow morning. I heard through the grapevine that Michael is extremely well-endowed."

"Brenda!" Mariah shrieked.

"Love ya, see ya, gotta go! Muah!"

 _ **Click**_.

Mariah put the phone on the receiver, shaking her head. "I cannot believe her."

* * *

Mariah shot up off the air mattress as the phone rang. She rubbed her eyes and glanced at the clock, it was nearly midnight.

She groaned and pulled herself up to get the phone on the other side of the room.

"Hello?"

"Hi, is this Mariah?"

 _Michael_? Mariah's eyes widened.

"Yeah, it's me. I thought you were gonna call me right after you got back to your condo."

He chuckled. “Well, at least I’m here now.”

“But it’s just- It’s-”

 

**May 16th, 1990**

Michael frowned at the phone, waiting for Mariah to just spit it out.

"Were you sleeping?"

She seemed hesitant, but answered. "I dozed off pretty early tonight, but if you want to talk, I'm all yours."

Michael grinned. He’d been thinking about her since they bumped into each other at the office. He felt back for not getting back with her earlier that night, but what could he say? Duty calls.

* * *

The two spent quite a bit of time on the phone talking about current events, and their albums.

Michael found her fascinating and didn’t want to let her go.

Suddenly, the woman let out a loud shriek.

 ** _Aoaohhh_**!

"Mariah? Mariah, are you okay?"

When she wouldn’t respond, and instead screamed louder, he began to panic. He figured he, himself, could drive to her apartment, since it wasn't extremely far from his condo. It would be risky to leave without Bill, but clearly something was scaring her and he was going to figure out what it was.

He jumped up from the comfort of his bed and ran to his car, leaving the screaming phone off the hook.

* * *

Michael frantically knocked on Mariah’s door, the specific apartment for which he found using the mailbox labels, and Mariah quickly answered.

Her hair was messy and she was wearing nothing but a big white t-shirt and some shorts. Mariah started laughing--leaving Michael unsure of whether her laughing was at him or at the situation. "I- I'm sorry for worrying you. It was just a rat."

"Well, New York rats are the size of small dogs anyway. Can I come in?"

Mariah glanced over her shoulder. "Sure."

She moved out of the door frame and he stepped inside. She hadn't been joking, her apartment was tiny even compared to other apartments he had seen in New York. There wasn't much furniture either--only an inflatable mattress in the middle of the room and a beat up old couch pushed against the wall. She instructed him to take a seat and skipped away into the kitchen.

"You want some tea?" Mariah asked. "No, I'm alright. The rat is gone, right?"

Mariah shook her head. "I don't know where that sucker ran off to. Hopefully I got him in one of the traps."

"Hopefully, I thought someone was breaking in."

Mariah sighed. "I couldn't deal with another break-in. I have nothing else to give, my sister's friends already took the microwave and toaster."

"You need to get out this neighborhood, girl."

Mariah came back from the kitchen with her tea and sat cross-legged on the floor. "I know. It's not a place for anybody to live."

Michael was staring up at the ceiling. "Do you hear that scratching sound?"

"That would be the rats."

She took a sip of her tea--Michael ardently trying to hide his disgust.

"Wait, so, how long have you been here?" He asked.

"Almost a year, my lease is almost up." She responded.

"Thank God, I don't even want to leave you here."

She laughed. "I hate it so much. With all the rats and drug deals and break-ins all the time, I just get so unnerved."

“It’s that common?” He questioned, eyebrows shot to the air?

She took a sip of her tea. “Sure.”

"In that case, I'll go check on my car."

Mariah pointed at the window. "You should be able to see from there."

Michael hopped up and peeked out of the window. He sighed in relief to see his car still in the same place.

"Good, my baby is still there."

"You remind me of my brother. He loves cars."

Michael turned around with a smirk. "Brother? I thought you were an only child."

"Well, there's my brother Morgan and my sister Allison. I'm the youngest."

"Well, I'm pretty sure you know who all of my family members are."

Mariah giggled. "Yeah..."

Michael walked back over to the couch.

"I never asked you, and forgive me if it’s inappropriate, but how old are you?" "I'm twenty, I'll be twenty one next March."

He nodded. "What day?"

"The 27th."

He flashed her a small smile. "I'll be sure to remember...Maybe I could even make up for the one I missed.”

“You didn’t even know me back then.” She replied, coyly.

“And I still don’t. So when are you free again so I can get to know you?"

Mariah glanced at a calendar that was hung next to her mattress.

"Friday."

Michael shot up from the couch and made his way toward the front door, his face beaming.

"Well, I'll see you Friday. And uh--watch out for the rats."

Mariah playfully rolled her eyes, nearly rushing the man out of the door.

"Bye Michael."

“Bye, Ms. Mariah.”


End file.
